


Unexpected

by QueenOfTheLibrary



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Thor - All Media Types
Genre: BAMF Darcy Lewis, Darcy Lewis is Tony Stark's Daughter, F/M, Gen, Multi, Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-14
Updated: 2019-01-26
Packaged: 2019-03-05 00:13:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13376034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenOfTheLibrary/pseuds/QueenOfTheLibrary
Summary: She ends up in a seedy part of the city she’s never been to. She’s glad because anywhere else she’d of been stopped by now, looking the way she does and carrying a baby. But people know to mind their own business here. She’s only seen a couple of people who look almost as rough as her, she supposes this is the type of place that’s busier at night.Finally, she finds what she’s been looking for. She doesn’t finish reading the sign on the building before she’s already placed the abnormally small baby on the stair and left. Belatedly as she walks away she wonders if she ever should’ve told Tony Stark he’s a father.





	1. Chapter 1

Anywhere else the woman might’ve been stopped, but this was the type of area where one minded their own business. So, regardless of the strange looks other questionable characters gave her; she continued on uninterrupted. 

She had always been able to sense things about people, nothing specific but vague feelings about who they were. Once, she ignored it because he was nice. She got a sense that he wasn’t a good person, that there was something dark and cold in him. But, he was kind to her. He asked how her day was and told her she was beautiful. Then one day she ended up in the hospital because he’d broken her arm and gave her a black eye. She never ignored the feelings again.

It’s almost a year later when she finds herself on the arm of some boring wall street big shot; at some boring big shot party. She dressed to the nines and curled her hair; she did her makeup just so and she’s in skyscraper heels. She’d been getting a drink at the bar when he approached. He radiated confidence yet the feeling she got from him was unsure like he didn’t really know what he was doing. She knew who he was, everyone did. She’d heard the stories about how much of a jackass he was. Yet, under that unsureness there was a goodness. A yearning to do the right thing. So she went home on his arm and left in the morning. 

Two months later she’s staring at the pamphlets giving her her choices. There was no feeling now, nothing to tell her what would be the right choice. So she drank until she forgot she had a choice to make or that drinking wasn’t a good choice. Then she saw a couple of girls with white powder in the bathroom of the club. She decided she didn’t really care what happened to the thing growing inside her but couldn’t pay to get rid of it. She joins the girls. A couple months later she’s got a bump hidden under her clothes and she can’t remember the last time she was sober for a full day. One of the girls from the bathroom asks if she wants to try something a little stronger. She puts the needle in her arm. 

A month later, she’s getting desperate. She no longer cares about anything beyond where her next hit is coming from. So when some man offers to pay her for letting him stick a needle full of some unknown substance in her, she agrees because he immediately follows it with some morphine. He starts finding her a few times a week and she gladly sticks out her arm not caring what’s about to go into it as long as he gives her something after. 

It’s two months early. She doesn’t remember where she is but someone calls an ambulance. As she’s laying on a stretcher and being taken to the hospital, part of her hopes the baby doesn’t make it and the other part hopes she doesn’t make it.

Despite being 2 months early, with drugs in it’s system the baby makes it. She’s sober when they tell her and she cries, they think they’re happy tears. Somehow, miraculously the baby is perfectly fine and can leave with her tomorrow. The doctors are baffled at how the baby, a girl they tell her isn’t dead. 

She doesn’t sign or add her name to the birth certificate, she adds the fathers name and doesn’t let the nurses see. She gives the baby a name; Darcy Maria, no last name. She’s already made her decision before she see’s the baby. She’s glad she’s made the decision she made because the sense she gets from the baby is Trouble with a capital T. It’s hard to tell but she thinks the dark sparse hair decorating the baby’s head is almost bluish, reminding her of whatever she’d been having injected into her a few times a week. 

Leaving behind unfinished paper work all empty of her name. She takes the baby, the unfinished copy of her birth certificate, a hastily written letter and leaves the hospital. She ends up in a seedy part of the city she’d never been to. She’s glad because anywhere else she’d of been stopped by now, looking the way she does and carrying a baby. But people know to mind their own business here. She’s only seen a couple of people who look almost as rough as her, she supposes this is the type of place that’s busier at night.

Finally, she finds what she’s been looking for. She doesn’t finish reading the sign on the building before she’s already placed the abnormally small baby on the stair and left. Sister Margaret’s, which she’s sure is some orphanage or church that’ll figure out what to do with the baby. Belatedly as she walks away she wonders if she ever should’ve told Tony Stark he’s a father.


	2. Nightingale and the Babe

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: there is a bit of brief violence and references to forced medical procedure(red room stuff) and very very brief and vague mention of child abuse in this chapter. Also just a heads up there will be more violence and child abuse most likely in the coming chapters about Darcy growing up. But there will be happy stuff too.

Gale, was what everyone had taken to calling her. She let people assume that was her name. Eventually, people forgot she ever had another one. Vasilisa Stepanov was a name better forgotten. She herself had spent the decades doing her best to do just that. She finally became just Gale when she retired the mantel of ‘Nightingale.’ 

Before the Nightingale she was almost another creature. The Black Widow was a mantel she only narrowly escaped. Vasilisa was always more interested in the song of the nightingales outside than the training forced upon her. Still she did as she was told, without question. Yet her eyes always wandered to the high, bared windows. Every girl tried to hide it, the first time they bled. Except her. When she woke up one morning to stained sheets she walked up to the guard and told him herself. She needed trust to get out. She wasn’t the best fighter, but she could be the most obedient. When they laid her on a table and placed a mask over her face, her eyes drifted to the window hoping to catch a few notes of a song. 

She was the most obedient. And she knew that the time had finally come for her to listen to herself rather than the handlers. She didn’t want to be the Black Widow. She wanted to be free. She knew she couldn’t be the Black Widow even if she did want to. Natalia was the best. She would win. But Vasilisa’s obedience had kept her alive until the end. They were released into the woods of Russia. Whoever killed the other and came back with the other’s weapon would become the Black Widow. They were let out different entrances at the same time, Vasilisa ran. Natalia was faster. But Vasilisa knew the forest better than she did. Obedience let her have walks with the handlers. She led Natalia on a chase, not wanting it to be over too fast as to cause suspicion. By the time it’s dark and cold Vasilisa decides it’s time to make her final stand. 

She finds herself on the edge of a cliff above a rushing river. She only has to wait minutes for the soon to be widow to find her. She has her back to the cliff and is facing the woods when the trademark red hair makes its first appearance flitting through the trees. As the red head emerges from the trees, Vasilisa brings her gun up. She brings her gun to her temple, a move that makes the other girl stop. Vasilisa smiles sadly at the confused girl before her. 

“Natalia. Don’t let them erase you. Remember to be more than the weapon they want you to be.” She thinks these are the first words she’s ever said to the other girl. 

Natalia is watching her like she’s a strange mutated specimen. She’s not sure what to make of any of this. She doesn’t voice any of her confusion. She will not be weak, especially not in front of her opponent. Even if said opponent seems very weak themselves. Natalia reminds herself this could be a trick to make her lower her guard. She will not be weak. 

There’s a nest of nightingales in a tree just to the left and a bit behind Natalia. They start to sing. Vasilisa smiles, Natalia is unsure if it’s a smile of sadness or glee this time. 

“The Nightingale will sing long and freely into the nights and days to come...” With those final words Vasilisa lowered the gun to her stomach and pulled the trigger. She dropped the gun now wet with her blood spatter and let herself fall backwards, off the cliff with that same smile on her face. 

Vasilisa died on that cliff, and the Nightingale was born there. She had spent every trip to the lab memorizing and examining diagrams of the human body. She was able to shoot herself in a very specific and small place in the stomach where she wouldn’t hit anything important. When she pulled herself from the river she was lucky to find a small village with a doctor who stopped the bleeding and sewed her up without questions. She left that night and never stayed anywhere for more than a couple days. Eventually she found her way to a different continent and started building her reputation. She was a hit woman. Quickly she became known as the best assassin for hire in the business. She only had two rules to obey now. She never ever took jobs on kids. Nor did she take jobs on innocent people. She made a fortune and was able to sleep soundly at night. Eventually it was time she retired. Her skin now carried wrinkles and her hair was now grey. She had started to grow old, and it made her feel victorious. It was time to become Gale. 

 

Gale bought an old building that used to be a school and opened a bar. Gale soon ran a bar frequented and loved by criminals. It was chaotic, and Gale loved it. 

Despite how loud and violent the bar seemed to outsiders those who were regulars knew Gale drove a tight ship. Anything broken went on whoever had done it’s tab and if anyone tried to skip out of paying Gale reminded them that she was the scariest one in the room. The bar also did have standards contrary to the belief of most. Gale didn’t care if you were a thief, murderer, mutant or hit man. But anyone who harmed a child in any way was quickly shown a vicious sort of justice courtesy of the Nightingale who made special appearances for certain people. Those who tried to preach any type of hate speech in the bar trying to gather support were quickly thrown out on their asses. Sister Margaret’s was for criminals, but not those belonging to anything resembling the anti-mutant movement or the nazi’s. 

Sister Margaret’s was full of criminals, chaotic, loud and still it was a haven of sorts for certain people and Gale was very proud of it. Gale’s life had made her very good at expecting the unexpected but nothing prepared her for finding a baby on the front stair when she open the front door. 

Gale lived in an apartment above the bar that she’d renovated with the large sum of money she’d accumulated when she was the Nightingale. She ran out of milk and was planning on going to the bodega around the corner when her plans came to a halt. There was a baby. A very small baby. 

She was sure that babies weren’t supposed to be that small. She was wrapped in a thick blanket and laying on the ground. Crouching down, picking up the baby Gale saw the edges of paper sticking up from under the blanket the child was wrapped in. Holding the baby caused those feelings of longing for a child of her own to arise once again. She had wished for so long that she might be able to have a child of her own, but the red room did it’s job thoroughly. Adoption was out of the question as that’d cause too many questions to arise. So she allowed herself to savour this moment as she went back inside and shut the door quietly so as not to wake the child. Walking to the bar, which she’d luckily cleaned that morning. She gently place the little baby on the surface. Unwrapping the blanket revealed the child to only be wearing a diaper and two pieces of paper. 

Picking up one of the papers revealed it to be this little babies birth certificate. Her name was Darcy Maria. There was no family name. Her date of birth was yesterday evening. There was no mother’s name. The father’s name was on it but she wasn’t sure if she really believed that or if she thought whoever gave birth to this child just put down the first name they thought of. 

The second piece of paper was a very short letter. It made Gale’s heart break for this baby and made her anger rise. 

_The baby is 2 months premature and was born with drugs in it’s system. Have fun. She’ll always be more trouble than she’s worth._

Gale wasn’t aware so few words could ever make her this angry. Gale looked down at the still sleeping baby and wished she could keep her. Just hide her away and raise her as her own. But she couldn’t. She just hoped this babe would be loved. 

When a social worker came to pick up the child, her heart broke a little more. As she watches the women carry the child to her car, she swears the child’s sparse hair is blue. She shakes it off as her imagination because she hopes for the sake of that child it is her imagination. 

The case worker scoffs as she looks at the birth certificate. The birth certificate is filed with father listed as unknown and the original birth certificate is thrown in Darcy’s file where no one else will see it for years to come. 

Darcy spent her first few years of life bouncing around foster homes with nothing significant happening. She was young and well-behaved. Always quick to place and just as quick to leave. Something about her just seemed to put people off, even her case workers were frequently changing. She was quiet in a way most babies and toddlers never were and it always seemed like she knew a lot more than she should. She spoke her first word at 5 months, which happened to be ‘fuck.’ Then she seemed to stop speaking all together, never saying another word. After not saying anything for nearly three months, while waiting to be placed again the new case worker that was appointed to Darcy frustratingly asks her why she won’t talk, not expecting a reply. 

“There’s nothing I want to say.” A little Darcy replies simply with a small lisp. 

The case worker needs to sit down after that. 

By the time Darcy’s walking at 8 months she’s also breaking things. She doesn’t mean to, she just wants to see the how and why something’s work. 

By the time she’s 3 she’s taught herself to read with the aid of a few children’s shows. She’s reading whatever she can find to answer the millions of questions she has. She’s tried asking the adults around her but no one ever answers her, just tells her to go back to playing because they’re busy. 

She’s sent to a new foster home which is so far Darcy’s favourite. The lady that’s fostering her feeds her three times a day and pretty much ignores her outside of meal times. Darcy is perfectly okay with this because there are books here. They’re on mechanics, engineering and science. Darcy thinks to herself that this must be what love is. She’s seen the Disney movies with princesses and princes. If she could be a princess of science Darcy thinks she’d be the happiest girl in the world. So she reads them all. There’s only one book on the basics of each topic, like someone had an interest once but quickly changed their mind. Darcy reads them over and over again until she’s moved after almost 2 full months which is one of the longest times she’s been somewhere.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THIS IS NOT THE LAST OF GALE THERE WILL BE MORE OTHERWISE I WOULDNT HAVE BOTHERED WITH THE BACK STORY.


	3. A Friend and Foreboding

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello (: I’ve got a new chapter for you, and I’ll be posting another one soon. This chapter isn’t too long but it’s really important to setting up future chapters. I’m predicting the next chapter is going to be pretty long considering all that I’m planning on going on in it, so I might end up splitting it in half to be able to post a little earlier. The next chapter is going to be pretty important to the story. Also I just wanted to say that a really do appreciate the comments and the kudos that people leave, so thank you so much. <3

Darcy has always on some level known that she was different. That it wasn’t normal to have a trash bag of all her things that she never fully unpacked because she never stayed anywhere very long. It wasn’t normal that she didn’t have a mom or dad. It wasn’t normal that she had blue hair even if everyone else said it was black, Darcy knew better but kept it to herself. It most certainly was not normal that all of her booboos seemed to go away faster than they were supposed to, not that anyone else noticed. She just didn’t fully understand how different until she started nursery and was around kids her own age for the first time. 

She’s going to nursery in the mornings. She thinks it’s boring when they have to count or sing the alphabet because she already knows how to read and add and subtract and has started teaching herself multiplication. But there are toys. And Darcy can’t remember ever having toys of her own to play with.

Darcy’s class is made up of 13 children including her. That’s 12 friends she could have. But none of the other kids seem to like her. Most just ignore her and pretend they can’t tell she’s trying to talk to or play with them. But there are a few that call her names. Darcy is used to being ignored but being made fun of is new. It’s a good thing that Darcy is nothing if not good at holding in her tears. Darcy doesn’t understand why no one likes her, she always tries to be as nice as she can be. After a few weeks Darcy is for the most part content to play by herself, but she can’t stop herself from wishing she had someone to play with. 

 

There is one boy who Darcy thinks might be her friend. Thomas. Darcy tried to be friends with him on the first day of school when she saw he was by himself in the little library party of the class. She’d gone up to him and asked bluntly and excitedly if he’d like to be her friend. He ignored her. He was quite a lot better at ignoring people than the other kids in her class. When they ignored her they talked louder to each other or pretended like they thought they were just hearing the wind. 

Thomas was fantastic at ignoring, it was almost as if he didn’t know she was there. But he didn’t just ignore her. He ignored everyone else too. Even the teacher it seemed. Darcy was confused by this. After watching Thomas for 2 days she decided that maybe he really wasn’t ignoring anyone. Especially when she saw the teacher making clumsy hand motions to him and him nod and make some much more practiced motions. 

Darcy marched herself to the desk at the front of the class and asked the teacher why Thomas always ignored everyone. Ms. Susan told her that he was deaf. Which meant he couldn’t hear. Darcy asked how he talked with people then and Ms. Susan gave her a book on sign language full of pictures of hand motions and what they meant. 

Darcy read it over and over again and practised during all of her time at home. She wanted to learn sign language so maybe she could finally make a friend. Darcy thinks after weeks of reading and practicing she could have a conversation with Thomas. Darcy is scared. What if he doesn’t want to be her friend either? 

Swallowing her fear, Darcy walks over to him. He is the only person in the little classroom library. She taps him on the shoulder to get his attention. Smiling at him she begins to sign. 

“Hello, I’m D-A-R-C-Y.” She signs to him and watches his face become ecstatic when he sees her signing. Then his hands are flying, he’s going too fast for her to understand. 

“I’m sorry, could you slow down a little please? I’m still learning.” She signs to him. 

Frantically nodding he starts again slower this time. 

“I’m T-H-O-M-A-S. Are you deaf too?” 

“No, but the teacher said you were and I wanted to learn so maybe we could be friends.” Darcy tells him smiling shyly. 

“I’d love to be friends! I’ve never had any before.” Thomas tells her beaming as he signs. 

Darcy’s answering grin is just as wide as she signs back.  
“I’ve never had any friends either.” Biting her lip she continues to sign. “Do you want to go play with the toys with me?” 

Thomas just nods frantically and grabs her hand pulling her along to find some unoccupied toys for them. 

Darcy has officially made her first friend. Darcy thinks that maybe having a family is something like this. She can’t stop her little heart from wishing that one day she’ll know for sure what it’s like having a family. She is very grateful when Tommy distracts her by shoving a stuffed dragon into her arms. 

Darcy has just turned four when the cycle of new foster home, be ignored, be sent away, repeat, is broken. She is going to be sent to a new foster home this weekend and just hopes they won’t forget to pick her up from nursery like her last foster mother had and isn’t always late like the social worker at the group home she’s temporarily placed in. 

Her new foster home is a bit strange and confusing to her. When she was dropped off at the run down apartment in the questionable neighbourhood the couple seemed like every foster family she’d been placed with. They seem nice enough but don’t really seem to want her there much. They’re either only foster parents for the money or they just knew like most others upon the first meeting that they don’t want her to be part of their family. Usually she can tell which people are which as the ones that are looking for a child to one day adopt always seem to look disappointed when they meet her. Darcy doesn’t understand why they decide they don’t want her before they’ve even had a full conversation. But whether they want money or just don’t want her, they all ignore her unless otherwise necessary until they send her away. 

She’s not ignored in this new foster family. Or at least she’s not ignored all the time, which is confusing. Her foster mother seems content to ignore her like the others before her, as does her foster father most of the time. But she isn’t ignored when her foster mother isn’t home and it’s just her and her new foster father.  
He sits with her and colours with her, or asks her questions like how her day was. She’s not sure why but she doesn’t like it. He’s being nice but there’s something about him that makes her skin itch. He scares her and she’s not sure why. 

She’s been there two weeks when her new foster mother says she’s going out with some friends for a few hours. For some reason this news causes fear to shoot through Darcy’s small body. 

“Do you have to go?” Darcy quietly asks hoping she’ll change her mind. 

Her foster mother just looks at her like she’d asked the dumbest question in the world and proceeds to ignore Darcy and not give her an answer, which Darcy supposes is an answer in itself. 

“Just make sure to stay away from that bar a few blocks away by the bodega, nothing but murderers, thieves and freaks there Lynda.” Her foster father warns his wife. 

“I will. Make sure to feed it. I’ll see you late tonight. Love you, Greg.” Lynda says goodbye to her husband as she walks out the door. 

The sound of the door closing is deafening and echos in Darcy’s mind as she’s filled with a sense of foreboding.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now I’m sure people are seeing where this is going to go in the next chapter but I promise you there will not be any actual you know what happening. I will warn you and give you a little hint about the next chapter or two. Greg is a horrible person and Darcy saves herself. In case you didn’t read the first note, thank you so much to everyone that leaves kudos and comments and all of those that read and enjoy my work as well. (: <3


	4. The Web and The Machine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: there is a little bit of violence in this chapter like a very little bit. I’ll explain some of the things from this chapter a little more in the end note. I’ll be updating again soon but I just finished writing this and wanted to get it up. Also Gale will return in the next chapter. Sorry this one is so short.

The feeling of dread that filled Darcy at the sound of the door closing stays with her, like it’s taunting her. It’s there in the back of her mind as she eats Kraft dinner across the table from Greg. He’s trying to ask her questions about her day and how school’s going but Darcy can’t manage to push more that one word at a time past her lips. Once Darcy has managed a few bites of the food that seems tasteless to her in this moment, Greg tells her they’re going to watch a movie. This is something he does that Darcy picked up on her first week here, Greg doesn’t ask. He phrases things in ways that are more orders that questions, yet no one else seems to notice. 

Greg places the tv on whatever movie is playing at the moment. Darcy just gets onto the couch and hugs the side trying to stay as far from Greg as possible. The movie is boring and already almost half way in. Darcy couldn’t remember anything about it if she tried. All she can pay attention to is how Greg seems to be getting closer and closer. The less space between them the more terror that fills her small body. Darcy is on the verge of hyperventilating when he is right beside her. Darcy doesn’t know what’s going on. She doesn’t know what’s going to happen. She doesn’t understand why she is terrified. Darcy hates not knowing. She wants to know. Greg places his hand on her leg, his large hand taking up her knee and part of her thigh. Darcy screams. 

The ear-splitting cry that Darcy releases seems to trigger something in her. Her world explodes. There’s noise. So much noise, too much noise. Too loud to hear. It’s like everyone in the world is screaming over each other in her mind, making everything an unintelligible mess. And it hurts so much. Darcy can feel her mind being torn apart. Darcy’s scream has turned to one of pain rather than fear. She can’t breathe. She knows she needs to but the pain is too over whelming and all she can do is scream with whatever air is left in her lungs. She is brought out of her head by a hand slapping her across the face. Her screams are abruptly silenced and she can breathe again. The pain and noise in her head is still there but feels somehow less overwhelming now. There’s a weird sensation she feels making it’s way through her head. It reminds her of the feeling of when she heals after a cut or a scrape. It’s the feeling of her skin and tissue knitting itself back together. It’s like she can feel her brain putting itself together again after being shattered. She can focus again. And when she does she is just as terrified as before. 

“Scream like that again, and I’ll give you a real good reason to. You understand, little bitch?” Greg sneers down at her having moved off the couch and is now standing in front of her. 

All Darcy can do is bring her hand up to her cheek and block him from seeing the quickly forming and healing bruise. What is happening? Darcy asks herself this question as she carefully watches Greg move to pace the room, she’s still trying to figure out what he’s going to do. It’s then that some of the noise in her head finally comes into focus. She can hear Greg’s voice, in her head. 

“I’ll just have to keep one of my hands over her mouth to keep her from screaming.” He doesn’t say it aloud but somehow Darcy hears him. 

The fact that she can hear his thoughts is scary but thinking about what that stray thought means is terrifying. Darcy needs answers, and maybe now she can find them. Darcy concentrates and tries to imagine being in his head. Darcy imagines the mind a giant web of thoughts and memories. Darcy can feel so many minds. Everywhere and anywhere but she ignores the others for now and focuses on the one she wants. Greg’s mind, feels slimy. Greg’s mind is horrifying. Darcy can feel somethings not quite right, like there’s something rotten in his head. The rot is surrounding every memory and thought of her. She barely brushes a thought about her in his mind and she knows. She has her answers. She knows what he’s going to do. Darcy doesn’t quite understand but she knows. 

It took Darcy only seconds to find her way into his head and even less to find what she was looking. Greg hadn’t noticed her eyes closed or her look of concentration in those seconds; nor had he notice her in his head. But it seems he’s finalized his plan for her now, as he’s turned to solely focus on her. He’s saying something to her. Darcy is can see his lips moving but is too petrified with fear to hear what he’s saying. 

Darcy knows what he’s going to do, what he wants. She doesn’t completely understand just that it’s horrible and she’s somehow more scared than she was before. She’s just wants him to stop. To stop and go away and leave her alone. She just wants him to stop. Greg seems to finish talking and takes a step towards her. Darcy is still sitting on the couch in the furthest corner from him as if if she tries hard enough she might be able to sink in and disappear. She wants to get up and run but she can’t get her legs to move. All she can think about is that she wants him to stop. He continues one slow step after the other towards her, taunting her. Stop.  
Stop.  
Stop.  
Her new inner mantra repeating in her mind over and over again. Until she notices something else. A feeling. Almost like when she was trying to see in Greg’s head, but different. Simpler. Not as complex as a mind. Not a giant web but a machine of sorts. Everything with it’s own purpose and job to do. Darcy thinks she knows what it is. Greg is right in front of her, watching her. A sound echos in her mind. There, in the middle of the machine is a thumping. It thumps to the beat of her inner mantra. Greg is reaching for the buckle of his pants. 

Stop. 

Stop. 

Stop.  
The thumping stops. Greg’s heart stops. Darcy isn’t scared anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I wanted to clear a little up about Darcy and her powers so you guys understand them a bit more. Darcy is a mutant. Those with an active x gene usually don’t develop powers until puberty but Darcy isn’t the usual case. Because of the combination of drugs and the mystery substance her mother took while pregnant with Darcy, Darcy’s x gene mutated evenfurther. Darcy’s mother was a mutant very low level though, even she didn’t know she was one. Darcy was born with an active x gene. Her x gene mutated to be adaptable in a way. So when Darcy was born she most likely would’ve at least been in critical condition but because of the way her mutations work her healing ability kicked in at birth instead of puberty because she needed it. It adapted to her need and she healed and was just an abnormally small baby. Her two core mutations which are if you hadn’t guessed healing and telepathy can adapt and change and create new powers that are formed from the core ones. For example, Darcy has a healing ability and when she was terrified and wanted Greg to stop her healing abilities mutated and allowed her to affect others bodies as well ie healing them or doing things such as stopping their hearts. Also I’m contemplating giving Darcy more physical mutations like her hair colour, thoughts? It’d be something that was easily hidden or retractable(?) like stitch’s extra arms in Lilo and stitch (also if anyone is wondering why everyone seems to think her hair is black is because it’s a very dark blue that would really only look blue blue in direct sunlight and she lives in New York, a giant concrete jungle. And people are very good at convincing themselves that something is the way they want it, ie they want her normal with black hair so that’s what they see.)


	5. A Kitty And A Ballerina

Greg is dead. Darcy knows what dead is, she’s read about it in books. She’d read about the difference between alive and dead in a science book she found at an old foster home and had read kids books at school that tried to explain what death is. At this point Darcy is fairly confident about knowing what dead means. But there’s a difference between knowing and understanding. Standing over Greg’s dead body, Darcy thinks she understands. She knows she did this. She didn’t use a knife or gun or her hands like she’s seen people on tv do, she just thought it. One single thought, and she killed him. 

Darcy can’t bring herself to feel bad. And that scares her a little. She’s supposed to feel bad isn’t she? She killed a person, she’s a murderer. Yet she can’t help but feel better knowing he’s dead. Perhaps that makes her a bad person but Darcy decides she doesn’t really care, she saved herself. She belatedly remembers she should call 911. 

“911, what’s your emergency?” The operator asks. 

“My foster father is dead.” Darcy calmly tells the stranger on the phone. 

“Are you sure, sweetie? Can you hear a heartbeat?” 

“There’s no heart beat. He grabbed his chest before he fell and then he wouldn’t get up.” It’s the truth, just excluding the part where she was the cause. 

“Okay, first responders will be there right away. Is the front door open?” 

“No, it’s locked. I can’t reach the lock.”

“Okay, it’s okay sweetie. Just stay away from the door. What’s your name?”

“I’m Darcy. What’s your name?”

“I’m Jill. Do you know your last name?”

“I don’t have one.”

“So you don’t know it. How old are you, Darcy?”

“I just turned 4.”

“Do you know when your birthday is?”

“October 11.” 

“Do you go to nursery?”

“Yeah. My best friend ever goes too. His name is Thomas.” 

“That’s very nice Darcy. Now the firefighters are there and they’re gonna have to force the door open. Stay on the others side of the room from the door, okay?” 

“Okay. Bye.” Darcy says as she hangs up, she hears the operator lady make a noise of protest but ignores it and hangs up anyway. 

A couple of seconds later there’s a loud bang and the door opens slamming against the wall. Three firefighters walk into the apartment, two go to Greg and one comes over to Darcy. When the firefighters reach Greg they start doing things to him that Darcy has seen on tv, she thinks they’re feeling for a pulse? The other firefighter crouches down in front of Darcy bringing her eyes to him. 

“Hey sweetheart, what’s your name?” He asks her and Darcy decides she likes him. 

“I’m Darcy. What’s your name?” Darcy replies brightly, which seems to surprise the man a bit. 

“I’m Jeffery. Do you know what happened, Darcy?” 

Darcy furrows her brows as she thinks about what happened and thinks about what to say. After a minute she responds. 

“I think he had sudden cardiac arrest? That’s what it’s called when your heart stops right? He grabbed his chest and then he fell and wouldn’t get up.”

“You got that, boys?” The firefighter calls back to his partners. 

“Yeah, got it.” One of them replies and writes something down on the paper in the clipboard they brought with them. 

“Now sweetheart, how about you tell me how you know what cardiac arrest is?” Jeffery asked her. 

“One of my old foster mothers was always watching that show where the doctors were always kissing.” Darcy told him wrinkling her know at the memory. 

Darcy gets a chuckle out of Jeffery for her remark. 

“I’m going to take you downstairs to the truck to wait until someone comes and gets you, okay?”

“Okay, just let me get my stuff.” 

Jeffery’s words ring in her head as she quickly gathers her things into her garbage bag, as she throws on her used coat and shoes, and as they make their way to the fire truck, “until someone comes and gets you.” No one is going to get her. Not really. A social worker will probably come eventually, but it would be hours at least before one made it here. Even when the social worker did come, she’d most likely end up sent back to a group home until they found somewhere else for her to go. Darcy hated group homes. They were full of older kids who made fun of her and pushed her around. The food was bad and the other kids often barely left her anything. Kids were constantly fighting over who got what in group homes. It was a fight over beds, food, the bathroom, everything. Darcy always seemed to be the smallest and got what was left over. Darcy got the bed no one else wanted, got the food no one else wanted, got the bathroom last when there was no hot water and had to hide to get any time alone. Other kids in foster homes were nothing compared to the competition between other kids in group homes. The worst part to Darcy though, was just how cold everything seemed to be. Not temperature wise but just like no one cared about anything there. When you were at someone’s home it felt like a home, even if it wasn’t your home. Darcy had once heard an older kid refer to the group home as a temporary holding cell and thought that name seemed to fit much better. Group homes weren’t homes. And Darcy didn’t want to go back to one. 

As they reached the fire truck in front of the building, they heard and saw the lights of an ambulance. Jeffery threw her bag in the truck and turned his full attention to the ambulance as it pulled up. He started informing the paramedics about what happened. Darcy took her chance and ran. She stops running once she’s out of sight and starts to walk with no destination. She reaches the neighbourhood bodega when she gets the feeling she’s forgetting something. Shes pretty sure whatever she’s forgetting has something to do with the bodega. Bodega is a funny word, when was the last time she heard it? 

“Just make sure to stay away from that bar a few blocks away by the bodega, nothing but murderers, thieves and freaks there Lynda.” 

That’s what Greg said to Lynda before she left. Maybe Darcy should go there, she did kill Greg and that makes her a murderer. But she doesn’t know where it is, just that it’s a few blocks away from where she’s standing. Darcy decides that she’ll pick a direction and if she comes across anything that looks like the bars she’s seen on tv she’ll go in. She starts to walk. 

Mostly the neighbourhood is quiet, well as quiet as New York ever is. The few people she’s passed all seemed to be too focused on getting where they’re going to notice her, which suits her just fine. She’s still wandering relatively aimlessly when she does finally start to hear some noise. She’s not sure what it is, just that it’s loud. Darcy who is too curious for her own good follows the noise. The source of the noise is behind the large door Darcy is now standing in front of. There’s a sign beside the door but it’s too high and too dark out for Darcy to read. Maybe this is the bar. Darcy opens the door and cautiously steps inside taking in her new surroundings. 

The place is noisy and strange but Darcy likes it for some reason that she can’t explain. No one notices the small girl who slips into the bar, nor do they notice her standing just in front of the doorway watching the occupants.

The two men closest to Darcy are sitting at the bar. One is skinny and Darcy thinks he kinda looks like a rat. Darcy doesn’t think she likes him. The other one is much wider, Darcy thinks broad is the word to describe him. He’s very muscly. And he has weird hair. It almost looks like horns, pointing up and shorter in the middle than on the sides. Darcy thinks his face hair is the weirdest though. It’s like how old men have hair on the sides of their heads but none on the top, only on his face. She decides she likes him. The rat man as Darcy has named him in her mind keeps trying to talk to the other guy who Darcy has heard tell the rat man to ‘fuck off’ twice since she walked in the door. Darcy decides she likes the phrase. The rat man still won’t leave the muscly man alone and the muscly man does something that makes Darcy like him even more. He grabs the rat man by his hair and tilts his head back revealing his neck. He holds his fist a few inches away from his neck and then claws come out. Claws come out of his hands! This incident causes Darcy’s brain to mouth filter to short circuit. 

“Kitty!” Darcy practically squeals, quickly gaining the attention of the occupants of the bar. 

Darcy runs over to the empty stool beside the man she has now named Kitty and proceeds to try to climb on. Darcy is almost on but because she’s facing the stool she needs something to grab on to to help her turn around so she can actually sit on the stool. So Darcy does the logical thing and grabs onto the arm Kitty is still using to aim his claws at rat man’s neck and uses it steady herself as she turns around on the foot rest of the bar stool and to help her pull herself on to the seat. Once she plops herself onto the seat of the stool the bar occupants seem to unfreeze and snap out of their disbelieving state. 

Everyone except for Darcy, Kitty and rat man start to laugh. Darcy is confused why everyone’s laughing. Kitty grumbles something Darcy can’t make out and shoves the rat man to the floor. Rat man hurriedly stands up and leaves. Kitty goes back to his drink, though he keeps his claws out. The rest of the bar eventually stops laughing and goes back to what they were doing, not particularly caring about the strange girl that wandered in. Darcy does note that the woman behind the bar is subtly watching her. Her hair is grey and she has wrinkles yet she doesn’t really seem old. The way she pours drinks and moves around behind the bar kind of makes Darcy think she might be an alien. Darcy still decides she likes her and goes back to watching Kitty. 

His claws are still out. They’re so shiny. Darcy can’t resist. Slowly she creeps her small hand along the bar, watching his face to see if he notices. Darcy very slowly raises her pointer finger to run her finger along the back of it. As soon as Darcy’s small finger makes contact with his claw his head snaps to her. Darcy’s hand freezes on his claw as he glares at her 

“Shiny.” Is all Darcy says and then proceeds to resume to stroke the back of his middle claw. 

All he does is continue to glare at her, trying to scare her off. When Darcy reaches the end of the claw she accidentally cuts herself on the pointed edge. It hurts but Darcy doesn’t flinch. Kitty sees the blood that immediately flows from the cut. He quickly puts his claws away and grabs a napkin. He tries to grab her hand but Darcy tries to hide it. Scared that even he’d think she’s too strange. He just grunts, glares at her even harder which she didn’t think was possible and grabs her wrist in a strong hold. The hold is enough that Darcy can’t move her arm away again but it doesn’t hurt. Her hand is closed in a fist, still preventing him from seeing the cut. He just looks at her and raises an eyebrow, Darcy interprets it as ‘open your hand or I’ll do it for you.’ Biting her lip, she keeps her eyes on him to watch his reaction and slowly uncurls her hand. 

Her hand is covered in blood. Kitty wipes away the blood on the tip of her pointer finger where she cut herself. Darcy watches his eyes open just a little in fairly well hidden surprise at what he finds. A perfectly fine finger. No sign of any cut. Just a bloody hand. He looks at her with what Darcy is fairly sure is a quizzical expression but it’s hard to tell when all his facial expressions are almost the same. Darcy doesn’t want to draw any more attention so instead of answering her him out loud she tries something new. She thinks of what she wants to say and tries to kind of push it into his mind. She imagines it like sliding a letter through a mail slot. 

“Please don’t tell.” 

Darcy watches as his eyes widen a little further this time. She watches him as he seems to assess her, almost like foster families do when they first meet her. Finally after a couple suspenseful minutes he gives he a small barely there nod and proceeds to finish cleaning the blood off her hand. He finishes and goes back to his drink, seeming content to try to ignore her now. 

“Thanks, Kitty.” Darcy thanks him happily. 

“Don’t call me that.” Kitty growls back at her. 

“Well, do you have a name?” 

“Yes.”

“What is it?”

“Wolverine.”

Darcy frowns at this, contemplating it. 

“I like Kitty better.” Darcy nods like that’s the end of that discussion. 

“No.”

“Yes.” 

“If not Wolverine, Logan.”

“Kitty.” 

“No.” Logan throws in a growl this time to try and get her to agree. 

“Secret Kitty?” Darcy proposes. 

“No.” 

“Yes. Logan in public, Kitty in secret.” Darcy tells him. 

“No.” He refuses once again. 

“Fine, Kitty all the time.” Darcy says with a shrug. 

“Fine. Secret Kitty.” Logan growls and finally concedes. 

Darcy smiles at him and Logan glances away and signals for another drink. As the lady behind the counter comes over Darcy once again suffers from brain to mouth filter failure. 

“Are you an alien?” Darcy asks the lady brightly.

“People around here tend to call me Gale.” Says the lady in a tone that Darcy can’t determine. 

“You didn’t answer the question. And people call me Darcy.” Darcy replies back. 

“No I didn’t.” Gale gives her a barely there smile that makes Darcy think it’s a very rare occurrence. 

As the lady fills Logan’s glass, Darcy watches her trying to determine if she’s an alien. 

“How about I’ll answer your question if you answer one of mine?” Gale proposes, Darcy had started vigorously nodding her head before Gale had even finished talking. 

Seeing the frantic bobbing of the girl’s head Gale asked her question. 

“Why are you here?” It was a simple question with a not so simple answer. 

Darcy bit her lip thinking about how much she wanted an answer from Gale. She knew she wouldn’t be able to lie so the question was did she want to keep her secret or did she want an answer more? 

“I killed my foster father. He tried to hurt me. I called 911. A firefighter took me to their truck to wait for a social worker and I didn’t want to go to a group home again. I ran away and ended up here. I like it here for some reason. ” Darcy says just loud enough for Gale and Kitty to hear. 

Darcy is tense waiting to get in some kind of trouble instead all she gets is a snort of amusement from Logan. 

“You know you’re gonna have to go back eventually.” Gale tells her. 

“But not yet. Now, are you an alien?” Darcy asks changing the subject. 

“No, just a ballerina.” Gale tells her casually. 

“You’re a ballerina? Can you teach me?” Darcy starts to beg. As much as Darcy abhorred the typical pink outfits she had always thought the dance was beautiful. 

Gale looked at her, well more like stared at her for long enough that Darcy started to get antsy. Finally she gave Darcy a sharp nod. 

“Every Sunday the bar is closed. Get here by 10 am. You may come early but never late.” With that Gale turned and left Darcy and Logan alone again. 

“Never seen her like that with anyone, kid. Think she likes you.” Logan told her gruffly. 

“Thanks, Kitty.” Darcy grinned at him. 

Logan grumbled under his breath at the nickname but Darcy thought she saw his lips twitch just a little when she used it. Darcy scooted her stool as close as she could to Logan’s and leaned her head against his arm. They stay like that, neither saying anything for an hour before Darcy decided it was time to go back. 

As Darcy walked back to the apartment building she came from she may have noticed a burly figure following her but she kept that to herself. When Darcy gets to the building there’s cops in front of the building as well as a lady in a cheap ill fitting ugly brownish purple suit that Darcy recognizes as her newest case worker. Mrs. Reeton is pretty okay as far as case workers go. She’s polite to Darcy, if a bit cold and she’s good at getting Darcy placed quickly. 

Darcy approaches Mrs. Reeton unnoticed and tugs on her sleeve to get her attention. As soon as she sees Darcy she just sighs and pulls her over to a police officer. 

“This is her.” Mrs. Reeton tells the officer. 

The officer looks at Darcy seeming a bit relieved and angry. 

“Darcy, tell the officer where you were. They’ve been trying to find you for hours.” Mrs. Reeton tells her in a harsh voice. 

Darcy knew she’d need an explanation for where she went and what happened so you thought about it on the walk back. Darcy is very good at holding in tears but she’s just as good as making them when needed. She lets her eyes tear up and sniffles a little while looking down. 

“I- I was scared. Greg died, and I don’t know why. He just, stopped and it scared me. And I just, I ran. And then I got lost and I couldn’t find my way back. And I didn’t know where to go. And, and..” Darcy starts talking more frantically as she goes on until eventually trailing off to just cry. 

The cop and Mrs. Reeton both give her a stern don’t do it again. Then Mrs. Reeton informs her the firefighter gave her Darcy’s bag and it’s in the car. Darcy is to get in the backseat and stay there until Mrs. Reeton is done talking to the officer. Darcy gets in the car and looks out the window. Once she finds what she’s looking for she gives the large dark shape a bright smile and little wave. Darcy is turned around and sitting in her seat with her seat belt on just in time for Mrs. Reeton to get in the car and start lecturing her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, thank you everyone for reading and thank you to all of those that give me kudos and comments, I appreciate it a lot. Also Darcy with more physical mutations like her hair colour, thoughts? It’d be something that was easily hidden or retractable(?) like stitch’s extra arms in Lilo and stitch, what do you guys think? Yes or no? Any suggestions?


	6. Changes and Early Practicing in the Art of Evading

Gale’s quiet morning was interrupted by the echoing of a knock at the door. She wondered if perhaps the girl had actually managed to find her way to the bar. When Gale had issued her ballet services to the girl she was quite doubtful she would even remember where the bar was, let alone actually be able to make her way there. Gale had purposely left out the address and any directions when informing the girl when and where her lessons would be. Perhaps it was cruel to test such a young girl this way but Gale wouldn’t teach the girl if she couldn’t manage to find her way back to the bar. The girl seemed to be smart and resourceful. Most importantly to Gale, the girl seemed durable. But Gale needed to be sure, she needed to know the child was strong on her own. If the girl made it to the bar, Gale would make her stronger. They’d start with ballet. If the girl made it through that, Gale would teach her everything she knew. 

****************

 

Darcy was placed in a new foster home after only one night in a group home. Though, it was still one night too many in her opinion. She’s got a new foster mom and a teenage foster brother now. It seems like it might be a good foster home. Her new foster family have been nice enough so far but seem content to mostly ignore her. Darcy doesn’t mind. Her foster mother told her she could eat whatever she wanted which already makes this home better than some she’s been in. Darcy had thought about how to get to and from her ballet lessons all night and came up with a plan. She told her new foster mother Jill that she had ballet lessons that she attended every Sunday. Darcy told Jill that if she took her to her lessons in the morning that her teacher would keep her for the day and drop her off in the evening. Luckily, Jill believed her and didn’t call her social worker to make sure she was telling the truth. Darcy gave Jill the address to her last apartment building and told her she needed to be there at 9:00. Darcy figured Jill would just be glad to be rid of her for a bit and wouldn’t ask too many questions; like why she was going to an apartment building for ballet lessons or why she didn’t have a uniform. Darcy planned to wait until Jill left her in the morning after dropping her off to start walking in the same direction as she had that night until she found the bar again. After her lesson Darcy would take the subway back to the brownstone that was her new temporary home. Confident her plan would work, Darcy turned her attention to other important matters. 

Darcy stayed up until Jill and her new foster brother Troy went into their bedrooms. As soon as their bedroom doors closed Darcy was sneaking out of her new room and tip toeing down the stairs. There was a computer in the corner of the living room downstairs. Darcy couldn’t resist the computer. She’d been wanting to play with one since her teacher showed her how to use one after school when she was picked up late last week. Before she could do that though, she needed to find some things. Firstly, Darcy found subway tokens in a bowl by the door along with a map of New York City and the subway routes. Darcy shoved a couple tokens in her pajama bottoms pocket. Next she spent an hour figuring out and memorizing how to get to the subway station a block away from here from the one closest to her old apartment building. Secondly, Darcy needed to find the computer manual and tools so she could finally take a closer look at the computer. She found a screwdriver and a small wrench under the sink in the kitchen, and the computer manual in the computer desk. Darcy quietly started to read the manual, memorizing words she doesn’t know to look up at school. It’s midnight by the time Darcy thinks she understands vaguely how everything works and starts to take apart the computer to look inside. It’s well past one in the morning by the time she starts to put the parts she’d removed back together. Darcy falls exhaustedly but happily into bed. 

When Sunday arrives, Darcy is so excited she has trouble not bouncing in her seat during the drive. Her plan is working perfectly. Jill drives off cursing the traffic without seeing her walk inside. Darcy starts retracing the steps she took that night, this time paying attention to the signs. Darcy has her first ballet lesson with Gale. She even lets Darcy stay after they’ve finished her lesson. Gale let’s her stay until the evening and even feeds her lunch and dinner. The time between her lesson and her departure is filled by Gale starting to teach her Russian. When she starts to make her way back home the busy crowds at the subway stations allow her to make it there without being noticed, and anyone who does just assumes she’s with the adult she’s standing closest to. Darcy’s muscles ache as she lays down in bed that night but she can’t help smiling one last time before going to sleep. 

Darcy’s life starts to fall into a new pattern. She goes to Sister Margaret’s every Sunday morning and spends the day with Gale. Gale spends a few hours teaching Darcy ballet. By the time they finally finish and have a late lunch, Darcy is exhausted. Gale lets Darcy stay until after dinner, and tends to fill the time teaching Darcy Russian or whatever else crosses her mind at the time. On her second lesson, Gale had a ballet outfit and proper ballet shoes for Darcy. Instead of the usual pink, the outfit is black and Darcy loves it. When Gale gave it to her, she couldn’t help but jump at her and hug her as tightly as she could. Gale didn’t hug her back but she didn’t push her away either. Darcy thought it was a good sign. 

Darcy also starts to spend as much time at the bar as she can so she can see Kitty. He’s always there, Darcy thinks he might have a bit of a problem but doesn’t mention it. Kitty pretends like he doesn’t really like her, but Darcy can tell he does. He even gave her a nickname! He calls her ‘Blue’. When she’d asked him why, he’d just grunted out the word ‘hair’. It’s the first time anyone else has ever acknowledged that her hair is blue. It makes Darcy like him even more. 

Because she spends so much time at the bar, Darcy has gotten very good at sneaking out without being noticed. It’s not very hard. Jill works really late everyday except Sunday(her one day off). Usually it’s just her and Troy at home. Troy is supposed to be watching her but he spends most of his time in his room. He never comes to check on her. So after a few days of the pattern never changing Darcy decided the take advantage of it and snuck out to go to Sister Margaret’s. She’s also gotten very good at taking the subway, and neither her foster brother or mother have noticed the missing subway tokens. During these hours spent at Sister Margaret’s Darcy sometimes talks to people she decides she likes and steals from those she doesn’t. Gale had told her that anything she could steal from the patrons of the bar without being caught she could keep. Darcy has started a secret stash that she keeps in a loose tile Gale showed her in her bathroom. It’s mostly filled with strange knickknacks, small weapons, and things that Darcy has no idea what they are. Darcy usually puts a little money in the stash to save but spends most money she commandeers buying herself dinner from the 24 hour diner a block away from Sister Margaret’s on her way home and getting her own subway tokens; she doesn’t want Jill to notice so many going missing from the bowl. 

So far this foster home is one of Darcy’s favourites. Neither the Troy or Jill bother her, content to go on with their lives pretending she doesn’t exist. Which makes it easier for Darcy to come and go as she pleases. They’re nice enough when they do come across each other, there’s always food and her foster mother doesn’t forget to pick her up from school. 

Darcy’s favourite part of school as always, is Thomas. Her first friend. Thomas is perhaps the only thing in Darcy’s life that hasn’t changed since _that night_. Darcy tries to avoid thinking of what happened before she ended up at Sister Margaret’s. She knows she has powers, that she can do _things_. But she refuses to let herself think about them or the rest of what happened that night. She keeps everything before Sister Margaret’s pushed into a tiny box in her head. Mostly, she succeeds in ignoring and avoiding the events of that night. The few times she fails, she quickly distracts herself with books she’d checked out of the school library. Darcy goes on ignoring what happened and is content with that. 

The time starts to pass very quickly for Darcy. Suddenly it’s Halloween and she’s at Sister Margaret’s. Gale shook her head disappointedly when she saw Darcy, Darcy’s not sure why. She tells her to go put on her ballet outfit except for the shoes. She’s a bit confused but puts on her ballerina outfit with her sneakers. Gale gives her a pillow case and makes Kitty take her trick or treating. As soon as the door closes behind them, Darcy grabs Kitty’s hand. He lets her. It’s cold and Darcy’s shivering, but she has Kitty who’s always warm right beside her. It’s her first time trick or treating. Darcy thinks it’s the best night of her life. Suddenly it’s November and she’s being sent back to a group home just in time for thanksgiving. This group home is quite large, but it’s crowded with other kids sent back for the holidays. If anyone gets placed again after thanksgiving they all know they’ll just be back in time for Christmas. The over crowded group home allows Darcy the ability to sneak out unnoticed. When thanksgiving arrives, Darcy knows they’ll actually do attendance that evening. She sneaks into the group home office and changes the number on the attendance sheet from 23 kids to an even 22. They’ll do a head count and no one will notice she’s not there. She then sneaks out of the home and starts her journey to Sister Margaret’s. It’s still early morning, the air crisp and cold. Darcy thinks she’s going to use the money she’s saved to buy a better coat. 

Gale told her that if she was coming for Thanksgiving to get there as early as she could for an extra lesson since the bar wouldn’t be open until 5 in the afternoon on Thanksgiving. Gale told her Sister Margaret’s always does its own kind of Thanksgiving. Gale orders enough Chinese food to feed a literal army and they all eat thanksgiving dinner in the bar. When Darcy had asked Gale why they did that, Gale simply told her that none of them have anything better to do. Darcy is just glad to be able to spend Thanksgiving at the bar, with friends. 

The bar regulars have all come to think of her like a strange little mascot of sorts. They’re all as nice to her as they can be, meaning they don’t kill or hurt her even if she annoys them with all her questions, which she appreciates. She likes them all, thinks of them as friends. But she knows they all seem to be allergic to friendship so she never says so aloud. The only ones in the bar she doesn’t like are the ones that only seem to come in once or very sporadically. There’s something in them, a coldness that she can feel around them. That’s something else that was happening now that she tried not to think too much about. She got these feelings about people and something in her told her to trust the feelings, so she did. The ones who gave her those bad feelings are the ones she stole from, probably not the smartest idea but she’s yet to be caught. Gale was a good teacher. 

When Darcy finally reaches Sister Margaret’s it’s closed but Gale told her where the spare key is so she lets herself in. She calls out to Gale, letting her know she’s there and coming up. Darcy doesn’t know much, but she knows Gale didn’t have a very nice life. So Darcy always lets her know it’s her walking in because the one time she didn’t Gale had a knife to her throat as soon as she walked in the apartment. Darcy thought it was kinda cool but Gale seemed scared and Darcy didn’t even think she could be scared. Darcy told her that she was fine and Gale didn’t hurt her until Gale seemed satisfied she was telling the truth. 

Gale and Darcy spend sometime doing ballet before Gale starts testing her Russian. The food arrives on time at 4:50 exactly. When all the food is out on the bar counter, the entire surface of it is covered in Chinese food containers. Gale unlocks the bar door at exactly 5’o clock, which is the time she tells Darcy dinner starts every year. Within minutes the place starts to fill. Kitty is the first one in, having been waiting and smoking outside when Gale unlocked the door. There are a few regulars who were waiting outside as well hoping to get first pickings of the food who follow in behind him. 

As classic rock plays in the background and they all eat ridiculously full plates, Darcy wonders if this is what family is like. In this bar of misfits, with Gale and Kitty beside her Darcy can’t help but make this day the new best day of her life. It’s dark and Darcy is yawning by the time she and everyone else start to leave the bar. Darcy leaves the bar with Kitty beside her. She stands there expecting him to give her his barely there nod of goodbye and walk away as usual. Instead as she looks at him in confusion he grabs her hand firmly but not painfully and tugs her in the opposite direction of the street that she needs to go. Darcy follows him, trusting him. He stops in front of a motorcycle. It’s big and black and Darcy thinks it might be the most beautiful thing ever. Kitty easily picks her up and places her on the bike. He gets on behind her and places her hands on the handle bars away from anything she could pull or push or poke. Kitty starts the bike. 

“Hold on, Blue.” He grunts out before pulling out on to the road. 

It’s fast and Kitty weaves in and out of traffic. Darcy is no longer yawning and instead can’t stop the smile on her face. He stops a few houses away from the group home. Darcy isn’t sure how he knows where she’s been staying but doesn’t question it. Kitty gets off the bike and turns toward her to help her down. Instead, Darcy turns toward him on the bike, and as he grabs her to help her down she clings to him like a monkey. She wraps her arms as best as she can around his waist and puts her head on his chest. He still has one burly arm wrapped around her waist, holding her up and hugging her back in his own way. She’s still smiling ridiculously big. 

“Thanks, Kitty.” She says turning her head to look up at him. 

All she gets is a grunt and a roll of the eyes in response. But he lets her hug him until she’s had her fill. She eventually unwinds her arms and he places her on the ground. She gives him one last smile before walking to the group home and sneaking in the window she always leaves open just an inch. 

The time between Thanksgiving and Christmas passes in a blur. Darcy doesn’t get placed again and remains in the crowded group home. The snow starts to fall, and Darcy can’t help but think the snow is beautiful even if she is freezing in her thin coat. She’d been meaning to get a new coat with the money she’d stolen at the bar but there always seemed to be something else more interesting to do. She finds herself still using the same threadbare coat by the time Christmas Eve arrives. Darcy had snuck out of the group home yesterday, gone to Sister Margaret’s and emptied the money from her secret stash. She left the bar with the intent of going to a thrift store to buy a coat when she had been distracted by something in the window of an old antique and nicknack store. She’d then been distracted by much more in the store and had spent all of her money. Even though she’s freezing as she makes her way to Sister Margaret’s and her back hurts from the heavy backpack she’s carrying, Darcy still thinks her purchases yesterday were better than a boring coat. She’d even became friends with the old man that owned the store.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I might edit this chapter in the next couple of day if need but I wanted to get this up because I had major writers block and finally got around to writing this. The next chapter or the one after will start introducing other marvel characters into the story. And then the story will start to pick up. The events of Iron Man will be happening soon as well.

**Author's Note:**

> I’ve got a few different ideas and plans for this story but I’m still not sure was route I’m going to take.


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